Questions Better Left Unasked
by Willow-Bee the Cat
Summary: An old family photograph found by Scott Summers leads to questions.


Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel Comics or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am not making any profit by writing this story. 

Rating: pg, k, whatever

Spoilers: Season 7, Buffy, Season 4 Angel, none for the X-Men.

Summary: An old family photograph found by Scott Summers leads to questions.

Questions Better left Unasked

Scott moved through the attic carefully. His grandfather, Phillip Summers had mentioned that there were family photographs somewhere in the attic.

He was visiting his grandparents with his wife, Jean. There was a suspicious lull in supervilllain activity. Which normally meant that sometime in the near future, something bad was going to happen.

A rare smile crossed his face as Scott found a box full of pictures. A quick look in the box revealed several pictures of his mother. After checking the rest of the boxes for pictures, he took the box downstairs.

* * *

Scott smiled at the picture of him wresting with Alex, both of them covered in flour. "I remember that."

Jean giggled. "Do I want to know?"

"Mom was baking cookied. We were fighting over who got to lick the spoon."

Scott pulled out another photograph. It was an old photograph of a man and a woman. The man bore a striking resemblance to Nathan and himself.

The man was dressed in trousers and a loose shirt, suspenders keeping his pants up. The woman wore a blouse and long black skirt, her hair up in a loose bun. Scott remembered seeing pictures of Suffragettes wearing similar clothing. In one hand, the man had a riffle, the other arm was wrapped around the woman's waist. The photo had to be from some time between 1910 and 1920.

There was something about the couple that was familiar, more so than just the family resemblance. He dismissed it.

"Who are they?"

His grandmother, Deborah Summers looked at the photo. An unreadable expression crossed her face. "Phillip's parents. They were mercenaries."

"Mercenaries? Why haven't I heard of them before?" asked Scott.

"Because my parents try to keep a low profile."

Scott looked up to see Phillip in the doorway. "Wait, they're still alive? They must be a hundred."

"Where do you think you got your powers from?" asked Phillip.

Scott was surprised to say the least. 'Why don't you or Dad have powers?"

Phillip sighed. "I did what was needed to protect your grandmother. As for your father... he and my mother have always been far too alike for my tastes."

* * *

It wasn't until later that night that Scott remembered exactly where he had seen the woman before. She had visited the orphanage. He faintly remembered her telling a story to all the children. A tale of magic with a hero named Pike who had given his life to protect the woman he loved. His eyes widened as he realized that the woman and the man from the photo had been to both his weddings, had been to Nathan's christening.

Why did his great grandparents look the same as they did in an eighty year old photograph? What wasn't his grandfather saying?

* * *

"I remember her."

"Well?" Scott said to Alex.

"She told me and a couple of the kids from the neighborhood a story about this guy called Xander. She said my name reminded her of him. I think she and that guy were at my high school and college graduation."

* * *

Scott sighed. Judging by the look on Nathan's face, he recognized them as well. "Where did you see them?"

"After Slim and Redd left, Marie and Stephen Holtz took me in for a couple months, taught me some fighting techniques, how to survive, that sort of thing," said Nathan.

* * *

"Where did you get that picture of Grandma and Grandpa?" asked Chris.

"Grandpa's attic," said Scott.

"Don't bother looking, they won't be found unless they want to be," said Chris.

"What did Grandpa mean when he said you were too much like your grandmother?"

"It doesn't matter, not really."

"Dad, what did he mean?"

Chris sighed. "My father gave up his powers to bring my mother back to life. As for me, I've never had anything resembling useful powers."

* * *

89 years ago

Dawn stumbled out of the portal. It had taken far too long for her to track down Connor, Angel's son.

She had spent the summer after Buffy jumped during the whole Glory thing with Angel in LA. She and Connor had met then. He was everything she wanted in a man, if a little psychotic. But Dawn always did have a thing for the evil and not quite sane.

She had finally found out where Wolfram and Hart had sent Connor to. She had to admit that the past of an alternate dimensions made sense.

* * *

"Connor Summers, huh. And I thought Connor Angel was a horrible name."

Connor looked up from his seat at the table in the tavern. A woman in a simple skirt and blouse stood in front of him It was times like these that Connor was grateful that he had gotten back his real memories.

"What took you so long, Dawn?"

"I got delayed."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I had a couple knights to kill and a monastery to track down."

"They giving you problems again?"

"Let's just say that they will never give me problems again," said Dawn.

Connor reached out and grabbed Dawn's arm, pulling her into his lap. He took a sip of beer.

"Soon as I finish this beer, we're gonna go find a priest."

"That has got to be the worst marriage proposal I've ever received."

"Including the Broadway reject that tried to force you to marry him?"

"Yup," said Dawn.

As they got up to leave, Connor turned to the man who had been sitting across from him. "I'll be back from my honeymoon in time to do the job, Howlett. Considering her temper-" He motioned toward Dawn. "I suggest you include another mercenary in the plan. I don't think Dawnie will take too kindly to being left behind."

* * *

Logan glanced at the photo in Scott's hand. "Shoulda known you were related to them."

Scott looked at Logan in shock. "How-"

"Long story," Logan walked off before Scott could say anything.

* * *

Sometime in the late 38th Century.

"... the Key watched, tears in her eyes as the Slayer dove to her death..."

Aliyah Dayspring watched as the cloaked figure told the children a story. Aliyah was only there because her 12 year old son, Tyler was among the large group of children around the woman.

Nearly an hour later, the woman's story was coming to an end.

"... with Sunnydale gone, the Key had no reason to remain. And so, the Key left the dimension, reuniting with her love, the Destroyer. And that is the end of this story-"

"But what happened then?" asked Tyler.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," said the woman. "The Key and the Destroyer were married, and with time they had a son, Phillip. As Phillip grew older, his parents began to realize that they were not aging. The Destroyer, was the son of two half human immortals, was an immortal himself. And the Key... the Key hadn't exactly been human to begin with. As Phillip grew, so too did his powers, until he became much more powerful than either of his parents could ever hope to be. Phillip became a warrior whose fierceness in battle was matched only by his heart..."

As the woman wove the tale, Aliyah couldn't help but be impressed, if a little disturbed that immortals were being portrayed in a favorable light. Well, some immortals at least. There were a few such as Darla and the Master who had been portrayed as evil, but stil...

"... and so, Deborah breathed once more, never knowing that her husband had given up his immortality, his powers, his very sight, to bring her back to life." The woman paused. "Their son, Christopher grew. Like his father and his grandparents, he had powers. Unfortunately, Christopher had his mother's mortality. Christopher had his grandmother's powers, but without her immortality, he could not use the powers. Using his powers would have destroyed his body, so he decided to live out his life as a flatscan..." The woman sighed. "Christopher's tale is far too long to tell at this point in time. Perhaps the next time I come around, I'll tell you."

It was then that Aliyah noticed that her husband Nathan and another man, who couldn't be more than twenty or so, were walkingover. The man bore a striking resemblance to Nathan.

One of the children, a brown haired girl about seven or eight years old, got up and ran over to the man. "Daddy! Mamma's been telling us stories."

"Really?" The man picked up the girl. "Come on Joyce. Do you have everything?" The girl nodded. "Good, we're leaving now. Mamma and I have a job to do."

The hood of the cloaked woman dropped back to reveal a pretty, delicate woman with long dark hair who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen. They couldn't be old enough to have a child that age.

"It was nice to see you again, Nate," said the woman.

"You too, Marie," said Nathan. "Or are you and Stephan going by different names nowadays?"

"Dawn and Connor," she said. "Not that it matters. Once the job is completed and we collect the rest of our fee, you won't see either of us again." She paused. "You have a wonderful son, make sure he never comes into contact with his father, the results won't be pleasant."


End file.
